


Little Suprises

by bottombeeb



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Secret Admirer, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottombeeb/pseuds/bottombeeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone keeps leaving Valentine's Day surprises on Patrick's locker, and he's not happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Suprises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pandon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandon/gifts).



> A Valentine's Day gift for my fave person in the world!

MONDAY

Patrick's never been a huge fan of Valentine's day. When he was little he loved the candy and not having to do anything in class except make cards and eat candy, but he grew out of that love pretty fast. As he got older it just became another day of girls who didn't pay him any attention gushing over guys who didn't want him, and it didn't take long for him to get bored of the entire holiday. It's just a hallmark holiday anyway, as he's tried to explain to Pete just about a thousand times which has always lead to just about a thousand reasons from Pete as to why the day is more than just some marketing plot. He honestly couldn't care less.

That's why when he walks into school on Monday morning he's not really expecting the mess of reds and pinks exploding on his locker. Cut out hearts taped all over, with a larger heart in the middle, words scrawled on it with a rose taped right next to it. The poem on the card is so cliche, " _Roses are red, Violets are blue, I think you're cute, And really hot too,_ " but the whole thing just catches him off guard and hes left just staring at the sight until Pete's slapping his back and laughing loudly.

"Get some, Trick!" he practically yells, only to get a punch in the arm and a mumbled, "asshole" from the younger boy.

Patrick figures it was probably Pete who set this whole thing up; it's so like him to go over the top for a joke like this. It wouldn't be the first time Pete's made fun of someone thinking it's an innocent joke. Really, it's gotta be him or just some other asshole who wanted to laugh at the awkward band geek who can't get date, who no one would ever consider wanting as their Valentine. It's not that he cares, it's just that it hurts sometimes; he knows hes not a desirable girl.

"Ha ha very funny," he huffs back, pulling the rose and the red and pink sappy-love-note-covered heart down before he's spinning his combination into the lock.

"Hey look, Stump's got a secret admirer," Pete calls to Joe a few lockers down from Patrick's, receiving a laugh from him as Patrick clenches his jaw at the heat in his cheeks.

It's a mix of frustration and embarrassment and he hates Pete or whoever the asshole was for doing this. He shoves the heart and the flower onto the top shelf and fuck he wishes he had time to clear off all of the other little cut outs stuck to his locker. For once he's glad that the couples in his school are so overly affectionate and sappy because at least he won't stand out in a hallway full of balloons and streamers hanging off lockers. He tries to block out Pete and Joe's laughter because he knows they're talking about him and his so called "secret admirer" (yeah right, Pete). He grabs his books for his first half of classes and slams the door shut with a bit too much force, purposely knocking his shoulder into Pete's as he brushes past him and heads to homeroom. 

He's not surprised when he walks in to find a pink candy gram bag on his desk, just sighs as he pulls out the note and glances down at it. " _To Patrick <3_" is scribbled on the top, messy like the person was trying to write quickly, and it's only now that he realizes that neither the note nor the poem on the locker are in Pete's handwriting. He mentally shrugs it off and pulls out the candy, hesitating a moment before slipping it into his jacket pocket. Screw Pete and his stupid joke; he's always loved skittles.

* * *

 

He's practically forgotten about the whole locker and candy incident by the time he gets home later that day. Jazz band practice always puts him in a good mood, especially when it's days like today when they play straight through songs and he can just let go behind the kit. It's still a few more weeks until their next concert, but the music is starting to have substance and he's humming it to himself as he pulls into the driveway. After school practice is the only thing that makes most Mondays bearable because if there's anything can clear his mind and lift his spirits, it's music.

No one in his family has ever really been big when it comes to Valentine's Day except for his father, but he always spends the holiday with his mom, so it's typically a low key affair. He kicks off his shoes and yells to his mom that he's home, and then he's padding up the stairs to his room. He slings his bag to the ground, and sits down on the bed. He feels loose and relaxed, body full of a warm kind of energy and he wishes his kit wasn't so loud so he could practice more without bothering his mom. He wonders if Pete's free to jam for a bit and when he reaches into his pocket, his fingers close around the little bag of candy instead. It puts a damper on his mood to be reminded of Pete's little joke this morning, but he still rips the bag open with his teeth as he pulls his phone out of the other pocket. He taps out a message to the older boy as he pours some into his mouth and it's actually pretty hard to be mad about candy, even for Patrick.

_Thanks for the skittles._

He puts his phone down on the bed next to him and shrugs off his jacket, tossing it aside right before he feels his phone buzz against his leg. He knew he wasn't going to have to wait long for a response with the way Pete's glued to his phone.

_wat skittls??_

Patrick rolls his eyes at the message, laying back on his bed as he chews on the candy. He really thought his friend would be over the joke by now, but apparently he's not and Patrick hopes Pete doesn't plan to drag this on until the Big Day on Thursday.

_I know the candy gram was from you, Pete._

He doesn't lock his phone and the response is almost immediate.

_i didnt get u a cndy gram trick mayb it was ur secrt admirer? ;)_

Patrick groans and tosses his phone aside, knowing Pete's not gonna crack. Not today at least, but the older boy normally has a tough time keeping things together, always the type to laugh through his own jokes in anticipation for the punchline. Patrick pours the rest of the candy in his mouth and then he's heading over to his desk and opening his laptop. The sweet taste doesn't leave his mouth for a long time after that.

* * *

 

TUESDAY

Patrick's bracing himself for some sort of impact when he heads to his locker the next morning, expecting more cheesy Valentine's Day hearts and notes and flowers painted across it after his text conversation with Pete last night. He's not disappointed because today there's even more hearts taped on next to the ones from yesterday and this time, instead of a rose or a poem, there are what look like little packs of gum taped to the locker and a little note written on notebook paper. He's confused for a moment before he reads what's written, a short and simple, "I wasn't sure if you liked chocolate or not, but I know you like these!" in that same handwriting from earlier. He looks at the little packs taped to the metal and now that he's paying attention, he recognizes that they're not actually gum, they're packs of Hi-chews.

"What are those?" Pete asks, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and leaning over the shorter boys shoulder before he seems to get it, "Ohhh are those those weird gum things you always eat?"

"What? Um yeah, they're Hi-chews," is Patrick's response, voice a bit off center with surprise.

He's caught off guard yet again today because yeah he eats these all the time, but he didn't think anyone payed attention, but then again, if anyone would know he loves these, it would be Pete. He picks the packs off of the locker, trying to ignore the comments from Pete (and now Joe) about how his admirer must know him so well. A smile creeps onto his face despite himself, not really paying attention to the natural upturn of his lips. Pete's normally not this good of an actor, and honestly Patrick didn't think he could hold up this joke this long. Plus, Pete's so dramatic and over the top that Patrick can't see him giving up the opportunity to get him Hershey's Kisses or heart shaped chocolates or some other huge cliche in favor of getting something that Patrick actually really enjoys. This seems more deliberate, more like something for him than just putting on a show. Suddenly, the idea of this being some other student playing a trick on him seems a lot more believable. Still, he normally can only get these on his trips into Chinatown in the city. He stuffs two of them into his pocket and shoves the rest in his bag as he packs it for the morning.

Pete makes some comment about how Patrick's mysterious Valentine must really want to get into his pants, and Patrick doesn't even feel bad when Pete almost falls over from the elbow he takes to his stomach. Joe's still laughing loudly as they walk to their homeroom, a sense of smugness mixing in with Patrick's irritation.

"So... any idea who the mystery dude or chick is?" Joe asks when he's calmed down from his laughing fit.

Patrick just scoffs, holding onto the idea that's now more of a hope that it's Pete behind all of this, and not some other asshole who's just being cruel.

"You're telling me it's not Pete?" He asks in response, stomach twisting slightly at the prospect of this just being someone being an asshole to him.

"I didn't think so, and I mean... if it is him, he hasn't told me," Joe replies and shrugs as a response.

Patrick just responds with a short little "huh" before Joe segways into a different topic. He launches into his plan to spend the weekend with Marie and Patrick's trying to focus and listen, but his mind keeps wandering. This time, when he gets to his homeroom desk, there's no candy gram, but as his fingers touch the little pack of candy in his pocket, he finds that he really doesn't mind.

* * *

 

When lunch period rolls around, Patrick finds himself in the band room, lunch on the pushed down music stand in front of him as he tunes the acoustic in his lap. He's always loved taking his lunch here, the room and the music being a brief respite in the middle of the normally hectic day of classes. It calms the nerves inside of him and he always feels the stress fade from his neck and shoulders at least temporarily to have this time to himself. Playing in an ensemble is always so great, but there's something about being alone with his music that seems to strike a chord within him. At home, his drum kit is too loud to play a lot, and he never feels comfortable letting go on his guitar at him unless he's home alone.

He just warms up his fingers as he eats, feeling better already just from going over scales and progressions. When his fingers feel comfortable and steady, he launches into one of his fave Costello songs that he always feels lighter playing. The sensation of playing is something that can never be replaced for him, and it's just indescribable. He eats and plays for awhile, eventually switching to just trying out different chords and sounds, sometimes just idly strumming what sounds good.

He reaches into his pocket at some point for the chews, wanting something sweet while he works on music, and can't help the smile that makes it's way onto his face. He focuses back on his music, slowly shifting from something vague to something a bit more concrete, random chords and sets of note starting to form into a melody. He bites his lip through his grin, fingers moving so smoothly and naturally along the strings and frets, only pausing to grab another piece of candy. He gets lost in what is now the beginnings of a song, and it startles him when he hears the bell ring over the speakers, hitting a discordant note and jumping a little in his seat. He rushes to put the guitar away and grab his stuff for class, fingers aching in the best way and spirits high. Overall, it's a pretty good day.

* * *

 

WEDNESDAY

Patrick's in a shitty mood when he pulls into his usual parking spot Wednesday morning, a sharp contrast to the cheerful mood that stuck with him all yesterday. He sighs and turns off the car, music cutting off sharply as the engine stutters to a halt. He woke up from a dream of kisses and smiles and maybe just a bit of fingers and lips and tongue, cold and alone in his bed. He's been grumpy since he pulled himself out of bed, hating the feeling in his chest that he sometimes gets when the idea of romance and affection fills the air around him, that ache that he tries to ignore and tell himself doesn't feel, the admission of a need that he hates to have. He's fine, really, he's just a horny teenager, that's it. That's it.

He squeezes his eyes shut and breathes in and out a few times, dreading what he'll find when he gets to his locker today. He flexes his fingers and then he's reaching for his tea, taking a sip before grabbing his keys and bag and heading towards the building. Pete spots him when he's about halfway across the parking lot, jogging up to him with a bright smile as they walk the rest of the way together. It's a chocolate chai kind of day.

His jaw clenches when he sees the familiar sight of color from down the hall, fingers gripping his mug as he moves towards it. He's so tired of this, tired of whoever's fucking with him and making him feel like this. He just wants this to end, wants the punchline to hit him in the face and knock him down already.

Today it's a traditional, store bought card taped to the front of his locker, and Patrick practically tears it down. It's probably the smallest thing he's gotten all week but it still bothers him, still makes his irritation and slight anger spike. He opens it and is greeted by the sight of words scrawled under the generic greeting and on the normally blank left side of the card in that handwriting that he's becoming increasingly familiar with. His heart starts to race for a moment before he realizes that the written words aren't a confession, a joke, a greeting, nothing personal from the recipient at all. They're words, and as Patrick's mind process them, they turn to lyrics flowing through his thoughts. It only pisses him off more when he feels them line up with the song he started yesterday, completely against his will.

He shoves the card into the locker with the dying rose and the note from the first day, shoving his books into his backpack and ignoring every word that comes out of Pete's mouth. He slams the locker shut, getting a few looks from others around him, and then hes turning and walking right past his friend, practically fuming. It really doesn't help when he finds a candy gram on his desk in homeroom, and he's just about ready to throw it away without even a look at it, but then he sees the handwriting and he pauses. That's clearly Pete's weird artsy font-like letters, and really if there was any doubt in his mind that it was from Pete, it's gone when he sees that it's addressed to " _trick!!!!!_ "

He sighs and zips it into the front pocket of his bag, not in the mood for this, but not wanting to be pissed at the world over this stupid thing all day. He had been pretty sure that this "secret admirer" of his isn't Pete, but the lyrics just confirm it. He knows Pete's words, voice, lyrics, and what was written on that card was definitely not his best friend. He pulls out his notes for Calc, distracting himself with the numbers that already don't make sense to him, just wanting this mystery asshole off his mind.

* * *

 

He can't sleep that night, the melody from yesterday still floating around in his mind, the lyrics that he's not even sure were meant to be lyrics forcing their way into his song, stealing his music from him. He closes his eyes and it's all he can hear, all he can see, and in this moment he really hates his synesthesia. Every note looks pink and every chord looks red, all of it blending together to make him feel sick with affection that he knows isn't real, is just some fake version of caring that makes him so angry that his chest aches.

He gives up after awhile and gets up for water and his laptop, climbing back into bed with the both of them. He writes down the words and notes that won't leave his head, feeling the way Pete always talks about, like he can't think or function until he gets the words down and out of him. He types out the lyrics that he hates to remember so clearly, especially when the sentences he was given are locked in a a box of metal miles away. As the goes, he writes the general chords under the lyrics, hating how well they seem to fit together, too pink and red and all bled together in his mind. Sometime in the middle of editing the words and phrases together he ends up drifting off, laptop on the bed next to him with his cursor still blinking in the dark of the room.

_When the world gets too heavy_   
_Put it on my back_   
_I'll be your levy_   
_You are taking me apart_   
_Like bad glue_   
_On a get well card_

_Oh show me your love_   
_Gimme more but it's not enough_   
_Show me your love before the world catches up_   
_Cause there's always time for second guesses_   
_I don't wanna know_   
_If you're gonna be the death of me_   
_That's how I wanna go_

* * *

 

THURSDAY

Fingers flexing against the bag strap, heart tightening with every beat, breath feeling uneven and heavy, shoulders drawn up, Patrick's full of tense anxiety as he makes his way to his locker on Valentine's morning. The air in the hallway feels heavy and filled with cheap store-bought love, all of it making his stomach unhappy. Today he gets to find out who's behind all of this, gets to be the butt of some prick's joke, and he really wishes he could stay home and avoid it. He's been bracing for this since Monday, but he knows it'll still be a kick in the guts.

Joe's standing with Marie by his locker, and Pete's (not surprisingly) nowhere to be seen, likely trying to charm some underclassman to be his Valentine. Their entire class has pretty much built up an immunity to Pete and the senior always ends up just pulling the "cool upperclassman" card on the classes below them. There's a group of juniors down the hall, a few that he'd recognize from some of his classes if he cared to look over at them. He sees Joe and he knows where Pete is, but neither of them are on his mind; his mind really only has one focus right now: his locker.

He's preparing for flower, chocolates, more lyrics, more paper hearts, reds and pinks and whites, practically anything other than what he finds. All of the taped little cut out hearts have been taken down, and all that sits on the locker is a short-stemmed rose and a small note on red paper. It's so simple and so anticlimactic and some part of Patrick is upset about how much this stranger has managed to surprise him. He reaches for the note and again, what he's expecting (some cheesy love letter with a poorly disguised lure and trap) isn't what it turns out to be.

_Patrick,_   
_I'm sorry if I upset you this week, I just wanted to surprise you and make you happy. I get it if you don't wanna find out who I am, or if you're mad at me, but I'll be in the art room after school today waiting just in case. It's okay if you don't show, and I'll leave you alone after that._   
_-B_   
_Blink back to let me know..._

Patrick reads over the note again, and then once more, and then he's just staring at the words, trying to make sense of them. He had been so sure this was a joke or a trick, and yeah it still might be, but there's just something about the note that makes it seem so real. It makes Patrick's heart twist with a mix of feelings because, what if this really was someone being genuine? What if there really is some kid in the school with a crush on him, trying to make him smile and make his Valentine's week brighter? He feels guilty for how he's been reacting if this is all true, but it's hard to let go of the feeling that this is still all fake. It's hard to accept the fact that there's someone who would do all of this for him of all people. He knows the only way to find out is to find this mystery girl or guy after school, but he's not sure if he wants to take that risk.

He pulls the rose down and opens his locker, feeling that guilt rise in him again at the sight of the dead flower on the shelf. He's about to place the new one next to it but then pauses a moment and rases it to his nose, breathing in the sweet scent. His cheeks feel warm when he puts it down, hating that hopeful feeling in his chest that might still get crushed down later today if he decides to go.

* * *

 

2:10PM finds him standing outside of the art room, backpack slung over his shoulder and rose in one hand, heart nervous and hopeful in his chest. He's spent all day trying to decide if he should go or not, and now here he is, willing to take this chance. If it's a joke he's not gonna let it hurt him, he's really not, and if it's not... Well, he'll decide what to do when he gets that far. He shifts his weight and spins the rose a little in his hand, knowing that 15 minutes is starting to be a bit too long to make this person wait. So, he takes a deep breath and pushes his way into the room.

What he finds isn't a group of guys standing around waiting to laugh at him, nor is it his friends ready to slap him on the back and joke around about how good they got him. It's a boy sitting on one on the tables, looking so small and unsure as he stares at the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Patrick bites his lip as he waits for the other kid to notice him, jumping slightly when the door clicks shut loudly behind him and the kid's head snaps up. It's some junior from his history class, Brendon something... Urie he thinks, and Patrick really doesn't know how to process this. He's always thought Brendon was hot but he's always come across as one of those obnoxious high school guy stereotypes, joking around and talking out in class, funny in the irritating way guys like him are. Patrick just always assumed that he was like the rest of them, some sexist, homophobic, sports-loving weed smoker who would never give someone like Patrick the time of the day. But here he is, giving Patrick a small and nervous little smile as he hops off the table.

"Patrick," he says, hope painfully clear in his voice, "I didn't think you'd show."

"Um yeah well," Patrick answers lamely, clearing his throat before finishing with, "I did."

Brendon bites his lip as he crosses the room towards the senior, and the older boy can see how tight his fingers grip the bouquet. He stops in front of Patrick, eyes so nervous and hopeful as Patrick looks up at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I would upset you doing all of this this week... and I get it if you're angry at me but um if you're not..." he apologizes, voice so nervous and unsure, and then he's licking his lips and holding the flowers up and out to Patrick, "be my Valentine?"

It's such a cheesy line, but Patrick feels his heart skip with it. He realizes he's got Brendon (and this whole situation) all wrong, but the ache of guilt is masked by the happiness and excitement that blooms in his chest. The junior's so cute and genuine, and Patrick would be lying if he said he had never gotten distracted during class at the sight of him, and really there are worse things in the world than being Brendon Urie's Valentine. He smiles, something warm and happy as he reaches up to take the flowers with the hand that still holds the rose from this morning.

"I'd love to," he responds, voice soft and eyes happy as he looks up at Brendon.

The younger boy's eyes light up at that, nervous smile giving way to a happy grin as he practically beams down at Patrick. He seems like he's about to say something, but it never makes it's way to Patrick's ears because the older boy is leaning up to press their lips together. His hand comes up to rest on the back of Brendon's neck and he smiles into the kiss as Brendon kisses back with so much enthusiasm. He feels Brendon's hands on his face, pulling him in, and by the time they break away, they're breathless and laughing slightly to each other. Brendon's eyes crinkle at the edges and Patrick notices that the boy bounces in place for a moment or two before he's leaning back in to peck Patrick on the cheek.

"Happy Valentine's day, Trick!"


End file.
